A Flying Car Dream

To begin, I was a detective. Didn’t look much like RL me. Only commonalities were white and male. My dream detective had a florid face – pink as a carnation – on a square head with receding blonde hair. I seemed to be in my forties. Clean shaved, a nose bent by fights finished my facial ensemble.

I’d just solved a couple big cases. After receiving accolades, I headed to my flying car to go home. The flying car was a BMW and some sleek sedan or SUV variation – wasn’t given a good look at it. No need to because a flying car is normal and common, and this was my regular ride.

A few people needed a lift. I was heading generally their way so said I’d provide taxi service. They sat in the back. We headed out.

Even though it was a flying car, we followed surface roads and the same road rules now in effect. Traffic was end-of-workday heavy. Stopped at one traffic light leading to an Interstate maze, I was in the wrong lane. Knew I needed to get into the left-hand land for my destination. So I had to outrace the other three lanes of cars — which I did. But then, I found the car wasn’t following the road but drifting right. I took manual control of the car to combat it, then found it a greater problem than first thought. I announced to my passengers that I was having a little car trouble. I pushed buttons in, trying to make the car work right. The buttons were square and silver. They wouldn’t hold in as expected.

I talked to the car, telling it to fix itself. The problem was given a temporary solution after a few minutes (according to the car). That’d eaten into my time and mood, so I had a change of plans. I pulled over and got out. Taking a control, I told the car to take my companions to their destination, go get itself fixed, and then come back and pick me up. I then gently tossed the control into the air, and the car took off. I turned and began walking.

That segment ended. A young man, closely resembling my RL self, I was in an airport when I stopped to check email on my computer and play games to kill time. The computer didn’t work right. I sat down and took some of the computer apart. These were hollow brass cylinders, about one and a quarter inch in diameter and an inch tall, unlike anything I’d seen in a RL computer. They were threaded and reminded me of faucet components.

Putting the computer back together, I decided to leave them off, in case I needed to address the problem again, then packed up and headed for my flight. I went through turnstiles with others, then overheard a younger man talking about a computer game he’d enjoyed. I knew the game and asked him if he’d ever played another game.

I couldn’t recall the game’s name. It stumped me for a few. I remembered playing it when it was big in the late eighties to early nineties, and described it to him. Then the name came home: “Empire” by Interstellar.

The guy thanked me and went on. I found that my flight was delayed. I began wandering the airport. While doing that, I went back to where I’d fixed my computer. I discovered that I’d left the two brass pieces behind. Horrified at my oversight, I stuffed them into my bag, thankful that nobody had picked them up while wondering what others thought they were if they’d seen them.

The dream ended.

A Chaos Dream

The dream began with great vibes. Returning home, I was being feted as a hero. I’d just slayed a monster, apparently about the fortieth time that I’d done so. Appreciation for me, and my fame, were growing.

First, there was a question of what to eat. A pot roast was being offered; “What would you like with it, Michael?” an elderly woman asked.

“Well, I like those little potatoes browned with them, along with pearl onions and carrots,” I told her. “That was how Mom made it, how I made it, and how my wife made it.” The word was passed, this is what he wants, this is what he likes.

An invitation came to join a military organization. “You’re a hero,” a woman recruiter told me. “We need heroes. You’re a leader. We need leaders.” My, I was flattered. Yes, I agreed, with little hesitation.

Other recruiters and their recruits arrived. I met recruits brought in by my recruiter. I made friends with one man. He was big as an NFL quarter back, and muscular, but very friendly and easy-going.

More recruiters and recruits arrived. Six groups were formed. After dressing in military green uniforms, we filed into a temporary trailer being used as an office space. There were way too many people in the trailer within short order. They were going to do the swearing-in ceremony here. Alright, I thought, let’s get this done. But then, they started trying to do it simultaneously in different corners, with everyone trying to speak above everyone else. The recruiters had also made name plates. They revealed that they’d ‘manufactured’ them by removing door and desk plates and writing on the back of those. The recruiters that this was funny in a sad, pathetic way.

Growing irritated, I was having second thoughts about joining. Who would want to join such chaos? Not me. But I also thought I could take charge and create order out of the chaos. So, I began making suggestions to improve. Why don’t the six groups do their ceremony one at a time? Give each group a number. Do it sequentially.

The recruiters close to me liked that idea, but it had to be communicated with the other recruiters across the room. I told them, “Just tell everyone to be quiet. Use your command voice.”

As that was agreed, a recruiter shouted for quiet. My big friend walked off, head and shoulders above the room. My recruiter came to me and asked if I was friends with him. Yes, I answered. “Did he use to be a football player?” she asked. Yes, I affirmed, he was.

She nodded. The dream ended.

The Startup Dream

Overall, this was a fun dream. Very colorful, sharp, and energetic. Young, I was with a tech startup company. There were about twenty of us, but we were having success and hiring to expand. None of them were recognized as people from my real life.

The atmosphere was jubilant, almost giddy. Then one male co-worker came in and told the CEO, “I know it’s not appropriate, but that woman you hired has a great ass.” I was mortified that he said that, but also intrigued: I wanted to see this ‘great ass’.

We launched a new product variation. It went well. A marketing campaign was initiated that involved people pretending to trash the office. That didn’t sit well with me, leaving me shaking my head and telling them that I didn’t agree with it, that I didn’t see the purpose, and that I was thought it was wrong and misleading. I watched several hirees going through breaking things as part of the campaign. When they were done, I was given a list of things to fix but discovered they hadn’t broken anything that I was tasked to fix.

A group of us left to go out on the town and celebrate. First there was the matter of changing clothes. I had some new garments and put them on, including shorts and sandals. I was with the others when I put my sandals on. Several people complimented me on me leg muscles. I answered, “Thanks, I walk ten to twelve miles a day.” I took special care about fastening my sandals, as the straps were different and unusual.

Then we left to find a place to eat and go dancing. End dream.

2022’s First Jigsaw Puzzle

Started this puzzle in 2021, on Christmas day. One thousand pieces, a Charles Wysocki art piece. Friends bought it used at the Goodwill in Florence, Oregon, a few months ago, for two dollars. I enjoy doing jigsaw puzzles, but I keep busy, and they’re a distraction. It was a gift, though. I thought I needed to honor that by putting it together. It came together quickly. Eighty percent was done within six days. The final pieces were the sky. Oh, man, that sky. I generally used half an hour each night to resolve the sky challenge. It was tedious going.

Ten percent remained last night. My wife had a Zoom book club meeting going. The sick cat and I were locked up in the office where I’d set up the puzzle. And, pieces just clicked. Boom, done at last.

Apple Diet After Math

The three-day apple diet was endured. Yeah, not bad, except in maddening fits when habits drive hunger. Like relaxing, watching television or reading in the evening invites a food companion. Not anything big but the apple slices weren’t satisfying in those moments.

That was rare, though. I’m satisfied with results. I suffer from edema brought on by Amlodipine taken to manage my high blood pressure. Apples only for three days had a dramatic impact. Likewise, as I’ve aged, mild bloating plagues me. That disappeared. And I felt damn fine. I’d recommend it to others.

Rising yesterday morning, I wasn’t hungry and ate breakfast a little later than usual. Energy level was high. I didn’t have any dramatic urges or desires to stuff myself. For dinner, we enjoyed fish with seasoned boiled potatoes, steamed broccoli, and a salad.

The cats rose up. “Fish! Real food. At last, we have been delivered from our suffering.” They charged my plate, leaping up onto the table. They know they’re not allowed on the table.

My response: “Get down. Back. This is my food. You don’t see me going after your food.”

They all jumped down and scattered back a few feet. The head floof said, “You can eat my kibble any time you want. I’ll trade.”

I told him I’d passed. He walked away, muttering to himself, tail swishing.

I don’t think he was happy.

Apple Diet, Day Three

After enjoying scrambled eggs with bacon, toast, and hash browns, I returned to the apple diet. Then I awoke from my dream.

A pattern emerged regarding my hunger. I eat breakfast within my first hour of being awake. You know, bathroom, feed cats, shower-shave-dress, and then breakfast. Day 1 of the AD, I ate apples for breakfast, but was hungry throughout the day, and ended the day hungry. On the second day, I didn’t get hungry until about three in the afternoon. Today, I wasn’t hungry until noon, but I was then ravenous. Television viewing affected it today. I watched NFL football. Any idea how many times food commercials are shown during NFL games? They’re all about pizza and fast food. I don’t eat meals from fast-food restaurants, but I enjoy burgers and pizza.

Granny Smith apples are at the bottom of my apple list. Just so damn sour. Think sour Gummis. Sour Patch Kids. Lemons which aren’t ripe. Grapes that aren’t ripe. An IPA with high IBUs. I adjusted by cutting my GS up first thing in the morning, and then eating a slice or two with the other apples.

The cats have learned that I’m not eating anything interesting. Using their noses and sound cues, they’ve quickly adjusted to the new diet and don’t come around to see what’s on my plate.

I’m already planning my first meal after this is over. Anyone want a Granny Smith? I have one left. They’re really good. Trust me.

I Am Cat

I am a cat who sleeps about

Going about to where I need to be

To catch a nap in the best position

In the right spot is a hard decision

In warmth and shade

Day and night

Sick and well

I seek what’s right

I sleep about where I need to be

I am cat and that is me

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